Leave A Tattoo On My Skin
by DobbyRocksSocks
Summary: "We'll work it out, little Dragon. You just wait." - Soulmate!AU.


**Disclaimer - I don't own anything you recognise.**

 **Written for;**

 **Fanfiction Tournament, Round 1** \- Any AU!

 **Big Damn Prompt Race** \- 36. Disappointed

 **Days of the Year Challenge** \- 14. Appreciate A Dragon Day - Write about Draco Malfoy.

 **Patronus Quest Challenge** \- Unicorn - Soulmate!AU

* * *

Huge Thank You to Sam, who not only gave me the motivation, but also beta'd for me and came up with the title.

* * *

 **Leave A Tattoo On My Skin**

* * *

Everybody has a soulmate. It was common knowledge that one day you would meet them and live happily ever after. Your soulmate would complete you in a way no other could; they were your other half.

You never knew when you would meet your soulmate. It could be as a child, playing on the park. It could be at school, sharing a book in the library. It could be on your first day at work, your boss or a fellow intern.

Some were lucky and got to spend most of their lives together. Others had to wait years for the feeling of completion to finally descend on them. Very few never managed to feel it at all.

Draco knew he would be one of those few.

* * *

He'd always loved his soul-mark. A Hungarian Horntail on his wrist, outlined in the brightest electric blue. It grew with him, ageing as Draco himself did. Lonely days spent inside the Manor while his mother and father were busy elsewhere were spent talking to his dragon, taking guesses on whether his soulmate would be older or younger, dark haired or light, blue eyes or green.

Only when he hit the tender age of fifteen and the last of his dorm mates found their match did Draco start to feel impatient. The war was beginning around them, and he knew that eventually, he wouldn't be able to stay out of it.

His father was already talking about him taking the mark. Another tattoo on his skin that would mark him as belonging to someone else. The idea of taking a mark of someone other than his soulmate made his skin crawl.

With the deaths being reported more and more frequently, the growing fear that his soulmate would die before he met them was choking him from the inside out. He hated it.

* * *

Charlie hated to leave the Reservation. He'd made a life there, and while he could understand the importance of returning home to help the fight against Voldemort, he wasn't happy about it.

Romania was like another world. Growing up in England, the importance put on soulmates was enormous and the pressure to find your other half was immense. Charlie wasn't altogether sold on finding his other half.

Why did he need someone else to nag him about returning to England? His mother quite fulfilled that role without aid. Why would he want someone forever on his case to not work so much, to be romantic all the time, to be… not himself?

He'd seen it happen.

While it was touted that your soulmate was your perfect match and a fairy tale waiting to happen, Charlie wasn't convinced. Sure, the 'honeymoon' period was probably wonderful, the rush of first times and love being all sunshine and roses but after that?

What would his soulmate think when Charlie was getting out of bed at three in the morning because one of the dragons was nesting and needed constant supervision? Or when he was laid up in the reservation infirmary with half of his skin blistered and sore under heavy duty burn salve because he'd not made it out of the gates fast enough? Could he live through his soulmates disappointment?

Then, obviously, there was the flip side to that argument, because what if it really was all it was made out to be? What if his other half really was his better half, someone to come home to at night, someone to curl up with underneath the stars, someone to love, who would love him unconditionally?

He'd felt the tell tale tingle a few times, but disregarded it through… through fear. If he made it through the war… he wouldn't disregard it again.

Making sure his armband was wrapped firmly over his Horntail tattoo, Charlie took hold of the long distance portkey and sighed.

"I'll come back," he whispered, his eyes on the reservation gates. "I'll come back."

* * *

Draco sat at the table between his mother and father. He couldn't quite believe that the whole thing was over. As much as he would likely never admit it outloud, he was impressed with Potter. Standing wand to wand with the Dark Lord the way he did certainly took courage… or stupidity. Regardless, the feeling of relief currently coursing through Draco's veins was undeniable.

Charges raised against him or not, he knew he'd rather face Azkaban than a future serving the madman whose mark he bore.

Itching at his wrist, Draco frowned. It had been tingling for hours.

"What is the matter, son?" his mother asked, her voice little more than a whisper as she glanced at those sitting around them.

"It itches," he muttered, flashing his soul-mark at her from underneath his tattered sleeve.

"Itches? Like a tingling feeling?"

When he nodded, she smiled tiredly.

"Your soulmate is near," she informed him. "Have you ever felt such a thing before?"

"A few times," he murmured, his mind travelling back to the Quidditch World Cup, and a few weeks of his fourth year. He'd given it little thought at the time.

"It'll happen when it's supposed to happen, sweetheart," she assured him.

"I love you, Mum," Draco whispered, gripping her hand briefly in his own. "I'm going to take a walk, okay? I… I can't sit here anymore."

She nodded, returning his squeeze before letting go. He could feel her eyes on his back as he left the hall.

* * *

Charlie walked around the edge of the Quidditch pitch. He'd spent his happiest times here when he'd been in school. It calmed him slightly, and honestly, he hadn't been able to watch George any longer.

His little brothers… one dead and the other heartbroken. The guilt was all encompassing and he didn't know how to shake it. He didn't know if he deserved to shake it.

Logically, he knew that he likely couldn't have done anything to change the outcome, and he also knew that with a family as large as theirs, they'd been relatively lucky. All that being said, it meant absolutely nothing against the pain of knowing that Fred would never again make a joke at his expense.

So buried in his thoughts, he didn't realise he was approaching a stationary figure until he almost knocked into him, seeing and stepping out of the way at the last moment.

"Sorry," he murmured, glancing down to meet his would be victim's eyes.

Draco Malfoy stared back at him, his eyes wide with shock, itching at the soul-mark on his right wrist.

"Is that…"

Gently, Charlie took the wrist in his hands, raising it up so he could look at the details, though he knew immediately what it was. Draco watched him carefully, the fear in his eyes almost palpable.

"I won't hurt you," Charlie told him carefully, his stature automatically falling into the stance he used when dealing with the particularly scared baby dragons back at the Reservation. He let go of Draco's wrist and slowly pulled his own wrist cuff away, showing Draco the perfect match on his own wrist.

"You're my…"

Charlie nodded. "Apparently."

Draco chuckled humorlessly. "Of course. I suppose I should have expected to find my other half right before a prison sentence falls down on my head."

"From the way Harry was explaining it to Kingsley earlier, I wouldn't be so sure of that sentence," Charlie replied quietly. "Besides… we would have had to meet eventually, right?"

"I'm not… it's not…" Draco swallowed hard. "I don't have anything against you. It's not that. I just… I waited, you know? I watched my friends be ridiculously sickly and mushy, and I wanted that. Then… with, well, with everything that's happened the last few years, I was scared, because what if you… whoever was my soulmate… what if you were murdered. And now… now you're here, and I'm still scared, because you're a Weasley which means you'll likely hate the very mention of me and -"

"Hey," Charlie cut him off. "I'm more than my last name, you know? Besides, anyone with that tattoo on their wrist has gotta be someone worth knowing, right?"

Draco let out a weak chuckle that ended on a sob, making Charlie smile sadly.

"We'll work it out, little dragon. You just wait."


End file.
